


I Like It A Little Rough, Not Too Much, But Maybe Just Enough

by littlechinesedoll



Category: DCU, DCU (Animated), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Batmobile Sex, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batmobile sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like It A Little Rough, Not Too Much, But Maybe Just Enough

**Author's Note:**

> notes: The Batmobile from DCAU (BTAS/TNBA/JL/JLU) has a very spacious driver and passenger seat. I’m assuming the driver and the passenger seat is like a sofa for the sake of being able to write this scene xD
> 
> more notes: help guys idk what im doing anymore. also the title is from the song “worth it” by fifth harmony because i can’t think of a title
> 
> ps notes: unbeta’d. WRITTEN AT WORK THERE WERE SO MANY WILD MANAGERS

The Batmobile never had enough space for anything, unless Bruce wanted the space. It had always had just two seats, one for him, and another for a passenger. Before the Robins decided to ask for their own ride, Robin was usually that passenger. Now, the passenger seat wasn't exactly for passengers anymore. 

The car's ceiling was low, and despite the uncomfortable position, neither Bruce nor Clark could complain. The car was running, its beastly engine humming and purring softly, and air-conditioning was on, yet both of them were covered in sweat.

Bruce's cowl was off his face and scrunched up on his nape, rolled up to use as a makeshift pillow, the lower half of his uniform torn off, and his belt was on floor near the pedals. Clark's cape was on the floor as well, beside Bruce's belt, but he was half dressed, like Bruce whose uniform he tore apart. 

Clark kept up the pace, didn't dare slow down or speed up. He wanted to hear Bruce say something. Say that it felt good, that he loved it, that he wanted more of it. But he never really got it. He did get the most amazing sounds out of him though. Moans, groans, grunts, whines, sobs, cries of too much pleasure it sounded like he was in pain. The way he sounded like he always ran out of air. Those sounds could make his cock harder than it already was if it were possible. He also reveled in the way Bruce clung onto him, scratching his back, and biting his shoulder. How he wished those marks stayed. How he wished there were red welts on his back from Bruce's nails, bruises on his shoulder from Bruce's bites.  

Bruce looked up at Clark, put his hands on his perfect, chiseled face, and brought him down to kiss him. Every inch of him was on fire, and Clark was like gasoline, feeding that fire. The heat of the sex, of their arousal and their blood, was unbearably good. Added to that was Clark's intense body heat, his sweat-sticky, sultry skin touching his like a brand. 

Other than the soft hum of the engine, here was nothing else they could hear but the perverse sound of skin slapping skin, their labored breaths, and Bruce's wonderful melodies coming from Bruce's sexed up mouth.  
"Bruce," Clark breathed as he pulled away. He licked Bruce's neck,  and his jawline, "You feel so damn good," 

 _"Whoa, cool,"_ came a voice from the car's dashboard. Someone was approaching the car. Bruce had chosen one of the most hidden allies in Gotham, and someone still found them. _"Bats, you getting some fuck, that's awesome, man! Have fun!"_ he laughed.

Of course the man could tell. The car was obviously rocking from side to side because of Clark's movements. Bruce scrambled to push some buttons on the dashboard. 

_Defense systems online._

The Batmobile suddenly was encased in metal, and the cockpit glowed red to replace the moonlight the shield blocked. Clark stopped, so the car stopped rocking. 

"You okay?" he panted, brushing Bruce's wet bangs from his eyes. 

"M'fine," Bruce smiled tiredly at him. "M'fine," 

 _"Aaww, that's it?"_  
  
Clark's brows met. He started moving again, and he didn't notice that he went on a rougher pace. "No, that is not fucking it," he said through gritted teeth.

  
He hated those words. He hated how everyone around Bruce seemed to think he wasn't enough. That there was nothing else he could offer or give that Bruce didn't already have. That he was 'it.' Of course he knew Bruce could do better. But Bruce chose him, so if Bruce chose him, there was nobody better, and Bruce was his and nobody else's.

"You're _mine_ ," Clark snarled. 

"Clark!" Bruce held on to him tightly. Clark had always been rough, but he had never been this rough with him before. He wasn't sure if he liked it, but damn, did it feel good. He wasn't sure if asking for more would be a good thing. 

"They're _wrong_ ," Clark said lowly. "I _am_ enough for you, and I _can_ give you everything you ask of me," 

"More," Bruce burst out, scratching Clark's back, as if the breath was knocked right out of him. "Clark, I'm gonna--I'm gonna--!!" 

Words he never thought he'd hear. Bruce asking for more. For some reason, that pushed him over the edge. 

Bruce arched up and came, becoming almost a shivering rigid body, his orgasm hitting him harder than ever before. He tightened around Clark, with a last push in, Clark too released, disfiguring and nearly crushing the car's chair he was holding onto.

Clark loomed over Bruce, studying him, scanning for anything amiss, if he'd hurt him. "You okay?" 

"Yeah," Bruce panted, "Jesus, Clark, what got into you?" 

Clark frowned, feeling bad that he let the civilian's words get to him. "Sorry,"  

"They're wrong," said Bruce, "They've always been wrong about you," 

Clark hugged him. "I love you," 

"I know," Bruce hugged back.


End file.
